


My Tommy

by Port_4



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: - Hinted - Freeform, Admin Clay | Dream, Allusions to Stolkholm and Codependency, Another Compass Fic, Anxiety, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Fundy does not feel Guilt, Gen, He's got a lot going on, His two favourite things, Hurt and Mild Comfort, Kind of Oblivious though, Not Quite Normal Clay | Dream, Peacekeeper Ranboo, References to Depression, References to Stalking, Repression, Sweetheart Ranboo, Toby Smith | Tubbo Feels Guilty, Traitor Floris | Fundy, We do not discuss it here, exile arc, its more like being hunted lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port_4/pseuds/Port_4
Summary: 'It's a shame Fundy wasn't able to grab Tubbo's things, again...'Ranboo thought, eyeing the other teenager with a fleck of remorse in his enderman eyes. Tubbo was turned away from him, focusing more intently on the sea floor in the distance.'Maybe I could talk to Ghostbur too? Get him the supplies he needs to make another?'It was all Tubbo had of Tommy, anyways. Current Tommy.What truly is a shame, however, is that Ranboo missed the sliver of silver stashed in Fundy's enderchest- only illuminated briefly by a split-second flash of lightening.----------Based on the short comic by@_cvpheron instaNOT A SHIP FIC. not even a little bit, pls.
Relationships: - hinted, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Floris | Fundy & Ranboo, Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 12
Kudos: 175





	My Tommy

**Author's Note:**

> [BETA READ BY HONKUSBONKUS420]  
> original concept by  
> -@_cvpher on [ insta](https://www.instagram.com/_cvpher/)/[ twitter](https://twitter.com/_cvpher)  
> -@1cvpher on [tumblr](https://1cvpher.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Their original idea is based on the little au(ish) idea that Dream/Tommy's relationship is a reflection of Mother Gothel/Rapunzel's from Tangled. 'My Tommy' is a reference to how Gothel refers to Rapunzel as 'My Flower', and not a possessive ship thing. 
> 
> Anyways, my fic follows the actual stream events very loosely- choice bits are changed for narrative purposes, obviously lol.  
> If Eret's nokia is canon, so is scotch tape. Let me have this. 
> 
> **LINK TO COMIC:** [ :) ](https://bit.ly/2XDr7Fv)

The sky was dark, roiling with thick grey clouds as it pelted the sea with rain. The waves below beat against each other, pushing and pulling as they engulfed a lone glass enclosure in the middle of the ocean. The noise was loud, almost deafeningly so, but it was something the young teenage president had long gotten used to along with the rest of his companions. It didn’t stop him from being anxious, though. Even if he no longer registered it, the churning of the sea only worsened the churning of his guts.

“Fundy?” Tubbo called out, shuffling around on the smooth stone of the sea floor, doing his best to appear calm in the rain as he scanned the surrounding area. His hair had long ago slicked against his forehead, and his uniform was beyond repair- respawn or not, this level of water damage was irreparable. “Ranboo? Have you seen my stuff?” He danced past various mobs, barely giving a particularly grabby zombie a passing glance as he searched, wide eyes divulging just how tense he really was. 

Ranboo could only chance a cursory glance at the president before having to focus once more on the task at hand, jumping out of the way of a slime he had yet to cut to size. “You didn’t die right where that creeper explosion was, right?” He asked, voice crackling through Tubbo’s communicator. Tubbo wrings his hands together as he continues to dance around the mobs, shoving a choice few into pits when the opportunity arose. 

“No, no, I didn’t.” He dismisses, quickly making his way back to the sand barrier that withheld the deluge not yet drained. Ranboo makes a concerned noise in the back of his throat that Tubbo barely registers outside of Fundy’s grunts of effort. A lump of green on the ground catches his eye and his troubles are momentarily forgotten, the boy easily distracted in his mounting anxiety. “Ooh! I did, however, find myself a creeper head.” Fundy snorts, surely about to retort before he yelps and continues to battle with one mob after another. Tubbo, however, pays no mind to this and is only still a fraction of a second- barely long enough to impulsively stash a lone creeper head in his inventory before he turns to gaze out across the expanse of the enclosure. He stands to the side, rocking from foot to foot and tossing the grotesque thing from hand to hand. He watches as Fundy continues to narrowly avoid being struck by lightning- in any other situation he’d be impressed, but he was too far into his own thoughts to do much else than bite his lip. “Were you able to grab it again, Fundy?” The fox in question doesn’t even look over when he responds, his voice carrying out in both the quarry-like structure and the comms as he neatly dodges a skeleton’s arrow. 

“No!” He swipes at the assailant, decapitating them before doubling back to run from the amassing crowd of mobs around him. “No, not me this time.” His panting crackles through the receiver before being cut off by Ranboo.

“That’s why I was asking, see- Oh!” Tubbo whips his head to face the other hybrid, only managing to catch the tail end of what appeared to be a botched attack on the slime’s part. The lanky ender-hybrid swiftly sidesteps, discomfort evident in the set of his visible jaw as he uses the movement to shake the green goop from his boots before diving back in. “I think you died just on the edge of the creeper explosion--”

Tubbo’s brows furrow. “Wait, what the hell??” He only catches the tail end of Ranboo’s attack before spinning back around to Fundy’s silhouette. “Fundy, did you blow up my stuff??” He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, he really didn’t, but the panic was beginning to set in. 

“Wh- No!! STOP DYING- I don’t know where you died, man!” Fundy spits out, more than a little frustrated. He huffs out a tense laugh, quickly moving to bait a creeper into killing multiple zombies, the carnage disappearing in a fit of code before most of it can hit the ground. 

“Yeah-- That’s why I was asking! I think you died where it exploded, Tubbo.” Ranboo’s voice was on the edge of caring, but with both the rain and the multiple slimes littering the ground around him he didn’t quite have the time for sympathy. The young leader paced the edge of the structure, being sure to stay out of everyone's way while his own sense of dread seeped in, weighing his steps down like lead. 

“Did you lose all your stuff??” Fundy asked, leaping over pits and making his way towards Ranboo, finally looking over at Tubbo. His wet fur would have normally made Tubbo tease him, but this time around it just made the blond-ish man feel more judged than usual. Tubbo hunched forward slightly, shoulders curling in as he quickly sidestepped a creeper. 

“Yeah, I did.. Are you sure you didn’t pick it up, Fundy?” The explosions lessened as more mobs were quickly dispatched, Ranboo’s small cries of victory lost beneath the crash of lightning. Tubbo didn’t get his answer immediately, as the two were busy speaking about mob spawns and loot drops. Tubbo let himself frown, casting his eyes away and back at the expanse where he died. All that remained was a small, 2x2 hole in the stone. 

A sigh crackled through the comm as the pair of hybrids made their way towards the president, discreetly guiding him back up the walls with them. “No, Tubbo, I didn’t. What did you lose, anyways?” 

Tubbo chewed his lip. “The Compass, and my trident.” Their twin winces made him cringe. 

“Ooo… that’s not good. The compass..” Fundy grimaced, looking away from Tubbo, but leaving his hand on his back. Tubbo could barely feel it through his soaked uniform. _He didn’t even have his armour to keep the warmth in, anymore._ He thought bitterly. 

“The trident, too. That’s important.” Ranboo concurred, only marginally clueless. Fundy butted in before Tubbo could, dipping his head as he spoke. 

“Well, the compass is too. That’s really bad.” The churning in Tubbo’s gut returns tenfold and he can feel his expression sour. Ranboo’s ‘oo’ of agreement only made him feel that much worse.

“You were just kind of blowing everything up, Fundy.” Fundy blinks at him, pausing in shaking the water from his fur to offer a tense (sympathetic) smile. 

“Yeah, but it’s worth it.” He replied with conviction. They continued to climb the steps up towards the ‘base’- a small shelter from the rain above sea level and nothing more, Ranboo blinking at the change in tone before pushing forward and rummaging through the chests in an attempt to avoid this conversation. Tubbo and Fundy reach the top only seconds after him, splitting off themselves. The latter began dropping different things into the assigned chests, reorganising as he goes as Tubbo just stands to the side, feeling useless and cold as he crossed his arms in a way that screamed ‘freezing’ more than ‘angry.’

“Was it, though? Because I kind of just lost all my stuff.” That doesn’t stop him from sounding peeved, though. Fundy’s hand stills on the work table, slowly drawing a breath in, cringing slightly as he glances at the blonde. Tubbo immediately feels bad, but only a little. Logically, he knows it was an accident. Logically, he knows the rain is the only thing really making him cold. “You’re trolling, right? Just messing with me?”

“No, I’m not trolling. I’m not trolling.” Fundy assures, turning to face him completely, hands out in a placating manner. “I-...” He groans, grimacing. “C’mon, Tubbo, I really didn’t mean for this…” He breathes, head tilted to the side and not quite looking at the child president as he tries to gather his own thoughts. Any amount of prolonged spotlight would make the fox tense on a good day, and Tubbo’s piercing (pleading) gaze was no different. 

Ranboo, previously silent, steps in. “Look, Tubbo, it really was just unlucky-” Tubbo blinks, looking up at the enderman, careful to avoid eye contact. Fundy does the same, posture easing. “I mean, you did trident directly into the area...”

“But you were nowhere near where I died-” 

“Then I don’t know what happened to it,” Fundy cuts in. “But I didn’t pick it up. I don’t have it.”

Ranboo nods. “You _were_ on the edge of an explosion, or something, I think your items just got caught on the outskirts.”

“Yeah, honestly- It really was just bad luck, man, you can’t blame it on me.” Fundy drops his hands, finally making eye contact with Tubbo. The tension drains out of Tubbo and he looks more sad than anything, crossing his arms tighter around himself. “I’m sorry, Tubbo.” 

Tubbo sighs, turning to the other man. “Ranboo did you-” 

Ranboo continues to fiddle with his items, interrupting the president before he could finish. “Yeah, no, I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t even pick up anything if I wanted to, my inventory is full.” As if to make his point, he drops a concerning amount of slimeballs into one of the chests on the floor, punctuated by a disgusting squelching sound. Fundy cringed and Tubbo chuckled to himself the sound only a little bit empty, as he began to feel guilty on multiple fronts. “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s okay, guys, I can just ask Wilbur to make me a new one...” Fundy tensed, suddenly appearing very uncomfortable before he slid around his companions to reach the enderchest, absentmindedly packing things into it as he refused to look up. 

“Yeah, something like that.” Fundy mumbled. Ranboo nods emphatically, much more lively now that he’s out of the rain. Tubbo winced, however. _Probably wasn’t the best idea to bring up Fundy’s dead and super neglectful amnesiac father right to his face, huh?_ He quickly attempts to change the topic. He dropped his arms, this time folding them behind him in an effort to appear less closed off and shitty than he actually feels.

“Hey Fundy, what are you putting in there?” The fox blinks up at him, mouth hanging open slightly as one hand rests on the open top while the other rests within the abyss that is an enderchest. 

“Uhh…” Fundy’s brain audibly whirrs a moment, slowly processing, before he blinks. “Oh! Just mob heads. I picked up a lot and I don’t want to lose them.” He replied with a surprising amount of cheer, quickly closing it as he takes the time to readjust his armour. “I want to try and get to more creepers before the storm ends. Do you want to stay up here?”

“Well I-”

“It might be better if you do, actually.” Ranboo readjusts his sword and makes eye contact with Tubbo’s chin, eyebrows crinking in sympathy. “You can’t really do much without any of your stuff and it’d suck to die a bunch more times. We should be done soon, though!” Fundy pushes past them, already making his way down into the enclosure as Ranboo rests a careful hand on Tubbo’s drenched shoulder. “Maybe you could try to dry off, or something!” Tubbo nods, only shying away a little bit. 

“Oh yeah, sure. Wouldn’t want to get sick, or whatever.” Ranboo gives an awkward laugh as he departs. Tubbo just stands for a moment, the absence of distraction slowly but surely allowing the empty feeling in his stomach to return. _Somehow, it hurts more than starving._ He mused. Tubbo sighs, quickly lighting multiple furnaces with practiced efficiency before sitting himself down on the floor at the edge of the singular bed that resides in the shelter with him. He said nothing as he propped his head up on one of his knees, staring blankly into the flames. He had nothing useful to cook, anyways. 

\------------------

The landscape appeared almost gentle compared to the frigid snow that tore at the trees, tearing into anything it could reach with an uncaring grasp. It wasn’t blinding, no- but it was frigid and painful for even the most experienced of explorers. The tall spruce tried to provide what little shelter they could for their admin, but even their thick needles and resilient trunks bent to the whims of the storm above. It didn’t matter one way or another, though; Dream had long left the safety of the forest in favour of venturing out into the endless white, the beady black eyes of his mask locked on the invisible horizon. He trudged forward, pulling himself through the snow at a calm, steady pace for much longer than any normal person would be able to sustain. 

The reflection of both the clouds and the snow created a blinding backdrop for the man as he continued forward, a dark dot marring the pristine image before him. Unbothered by the turbulent ice that desperately tried to snatch at his cloak, the fragments rending nothing as he pressed on. He’d find it humorous, if the storm were sentient. _Futile._ The garment continued to whip through the air behind him, twisting and coiling in the wind like a thrashing creature round his neck. He paid it no mind. _Any lesser man surely would._

The tundra was bleak, honestly. Barren and boring, filled with nothing but the distant blue-greys of far off mountains and the occasional deep greens of a starving forest. The blizzard around him did not let up- but it also did not worsen. It only continued, just enough of a danger to force whatever poor animals that called this wasteland their home into hiding. A shame, really. Dream would have loved to see a fox. 

At Dream’s determined pace, it was no surprise he met his destination swiftly. 

The admin stood on the edge of an empty clearing, smooth bone mask still fixated on that singular point in the distance. The storm around him screamed, the sky itself roaring at his very presence. His cloak- _not nearly enough to save him from the bone deep chill of this world_ \- ripped through the air, getting tossed this way and that as he was still, breathing as even as the earth wasn't. Slowly, the winds died down. They stopped crying- icy claws having gone from fruitlessly tearing at what little flesh they could reach to a gentle caress of him and only him, once they realised just who was standing so bravely in their midst. His hood no longer ran the risk of being torn from him, nor was his cloak still possessed. Only then did Dream reach into his pocket, fat flakes of winter’s gift mindlessly drifting down around him as he pulled out a scuffed silver item. 

It was dented- woefully abused in it’s short life, but lovingly cleaned from the ash and burns that used to reside on it’s mirror-like surface. A singular flap of paper fluttered in the wind, held onto the top by nothing more than a piece of tape. Finally, the mask moved- a deceptively delicate hand broke it from the horizon as Dream pushed it off his face, revealing nothing more than a few choice scars and a singular piercingly hazel eye. His face could have been considered kind, maybe, if it wasn’t deformed by such a dead expression.

He looked down at the object in his hand. He held the paper down with his thumb, just long enough for it to remain good and still and legible. _‘A gift’_ , it said. An invisible curl of his lips was the only indication the admin had even read the note before he carelessly plucked it from his present, dropping it into the air and not bothering to watch as it was ripped away from him, tearing through the plains and into the beyond. 

Dream flicked his present open, the well-loved clasp making a satisfying click as it released it’s lid. The inside was just as spotless as the outside, all surfaces polished and reflective- aside from the distasteful calligraphy engraved on the inside of the top. 

_‘Your Tommy’_ , it had once read, in delicate, swooping letters, curled together with care. 

_**‘My** Tommy’_, it now read. 

The Admin smiled, a soft curve of his lips that would appear sweet on any other person, as the needle levelled out. He looked up, humming to himself as he tilted his head to the side and gazed at the sizable cabin in the distance- humble if not for its inhabitants. Dream watched as smoke poured from the chimney in the distance, chuckling at the beginnings of a hideous tower in the spacious backyard of his endearing ‘rival’. 

“Found you.” He murmured.


End file.
